In Your Debt
by The Recalcitrant Raconteur
Summary: This is my take on the AU prompt "Person A pretends to be Person B's best friend because they don't look remotely comfortable with the guy chatting them up at the bar."


**Hi! This is the first fanfiction I've ever written *confetti* and I'm not at all sure how to work this site yet. It took me like two days to figure out how to upload this, I'm so technologically inept. Also, I don't own Merlin. That'd be nice, but nah m8. Anyway, please leave a review, I am very open to criticism. Thanks! **

Merlin took a sip of his martini and leaned back on the bar, silently surveying the club and its many patrons. This particular club wasn't one he frequented, though to be fair, nor were any others. Having been unemployed the moment he stepped out of college, Merlin didn't have much money to blow off – in fact, the only reason he came today was because Gwaine had forced him. He could see him now, in the middle of the dance floor, grinding with some sweaty stranger, seemingly unaffected by the harsh music that was giving Merlin a pounding headache.

Sometimes Merlin could honestly say that he envied Gwaine. It was always him who was out taking on the world while Merlin was out looking for "We're hiring!" signs at shops, it was always him who was living the high life despite his similar state of unemployment while Merlin sat alone with his empty canvas. He wouldn't make it as an artist, he knew that, having been told the same from every teacher and counselor he'd ever had. Still, he couldn't bring himself to give up his art, not when it was the only way to channel his dreams without being called insane.

Merlin jumped a foot in the air when a hand suddenly appeared on his shoulder.

"Good god, Gwaine!" he cried as he clapped a hand over his racing heart.

"I'm not sure I'd go quite that far, although I won't deny that I'm awesome," Gwaine yelled laughingly over the music. He reached down to pick up Merlin's fallen glass for him and stared in dismay at the drink all over the floor. "What a waste. Ah well, at least now you don't have the excuse of drinking to keep you from dancing!"

"Oh, no no no," Merlin protested loudly as Gwaine tugged him off of his seat. "You know I don't dance, let me go you ass!"

"But you'll never experience life to its fullest if you never get out of your shell! C'mon, live for once!"

Merlin eventually succeeded in detaching Gwaine from his arm and quickly vanished into the crowd before he was forced back. He ducked under several arms and wove through a small group of kids who were definitely underage, and came to rest near the tables by the back of the bar, where he was blessedly mostly alone. The only other occupants of the secluded space were an attractive blond guy and the beefy dude in a Manchester hoodie who was advancing on him.

Merlin peered more closely at the pair, and only a few seconds' observing brought him to the conclusion that the blonde was being harassed. His neck was flushed, and the other man's hand kept drifting up to his side and being slapped away. Still, he looked as though he were trying to maintain a face of indifference to the whole affair, and remained expressionless when the man completely backed him against the counter and grabbed his upper arm. That's when Merlin decided enough was enough, and marched over impulsively, subconsciously realizing he wouldn't be able to fight this guy if it came to that.

"Hey man, haven't seen you in ages!" Merlin said confidently as he strode up to the two and tapped the blonde on the shoulder. The blonde's mask of indifference didn't slip, but when he turned to Merlin his eyebrows furrowed a bit. 'Play along,' Merlin begged with his eyes, and the man seemed to understand because he said a moment later "Eric! I haven't talked to you in a dog's age, how've you been?" He shot a sidelong glance at the scruffy man who had released him and was now looking quite confused.

Merlin, the moment he was able to, grabbed Blondie's wrist and dragged him away, not letting another second pass in that man's presence. Right after the crowd had closed around them and the man was out of earshot, Blondie yanked his arm free and rubbed it where the man had had a surprisingly tight grasp on it. He narrowed his eyes at Merlin.

"I was handling it fine."

Merlin snorted. "Yeah, sure looked it, from the way he was feeling you up. You're welcome, by the way."

"I could've taken him!"

"Uh huh. Well, now you don't have to anyway, so just leave it be, friend."

"Sorry, but do I know you?"

"I'm Merlin." At this point he gave a short mock bow. "Not Eric, contrary to popular belief."

"Ah, so I don't really know you."

Merlin shrugged, not seeing how this was relevant. "No, I suppose you don't."

Blondie cocked his head as if curious. "And yet you called me 'friend'."

Merlin mentally scowled, but kept on a pleasant tone. "Yeah, that was my mistake. I'd never have a friend who could be such an ass." It was at this point that Merlin shoved past a few disgruntled clubbers and scurried off to find Gwaine, only turning back for a second to relish in the offended look on Blondie's face. Honestly... He could have at least been a bit grateful. No one should have to deal with harassment, and while Merlin didn't doubt that Blondie would have eventually fought back, Merlin couldn't stand watching.

It was less than an hour later when an only slightly buzzed Merlin, pulling a far more inebriated Gwaine in tow, left the club. They walked about a block and a half away, until all that was left of the club that they could see was the neon lights in the shape of a sun, and they knew without looking that underneath, more lights spelled out 'The Rising Sun.' Merlin off-handedly wondered what had become of Blondie, but dismissed the thought immediately, figuring he'd never see the man again.

2 weeks later

He walked slowly, staring down at his old phone. Gwaine was texting Merlin worriedly, and Merlin was trying to mollify him. The issue at hand was that Gwaine thoroughly disagreed with Merlin's decision to cut through several alleys instead of calling a cab to get home. 'Home,' for them, was the shared dingy flat about an hour's walk from Merlin's location.

"The cut-throughs don't do that much for you, they only take off about 10 minutes!_ And_ you're alone and it's almost nighttime. Just order a cab!" was Gwaine's argument.

"That may be so, but keep in mind that we're already down on our budget. Besides, the exercise could be good for me," Merlin reasoned.

"You won't be lamenting your loss of exercise when you're lying mugged and bloody in a dark backstreet."

Merlin flipped his phone shut in exasperation and shoved it in his pocket. While he could easily see Gwaine's point, and understood the danger in waltzing through back alleys in the middle of London at night, he couldn't help but push it aside when he remembered how short he was on money. He sped up a little bit, eager to get back to the crowded and well-lit main streets.

The streets were changing and becoming steadily more familiar as Merlin neared the flat, and he knew that there was only one more side road separating him from his dinner. The alley cut between some abandoned clothing store and the Pendragon Inc. headquarters. Merlin didn't know much about either, just that the shop had been closed since before they moved into the flat, and Pendragon Inc. did something with electronics. Neither were of any importance to Merlin, as they didn't affect his life in any way, and so the most interaction he'd ever had with either was crossing through the little street in between them.

In his haste to get through the alley, there was one very important thing that Merlin failed to notice and one that he only noticed when it was too late, the former being the golden haired man stepping curiously towards the alley after Merlin, and the latter the much more imposing figure in quick pursuit of Merlin. Upon being seen, the figure sped up, and Merlin, fearing the worst, kicked up into a sprint and bolted down the alley, trying to keep to the center and far from the shadows.

Merlin's heart raced the thoughts of panic flying through his head, but both stopped momentarily when he was tackled to the ground from behind. He collapsed in a heap with the weight of a body above him, falling heavily and whacking his head on the pavement. A small whimper of pain escaped his lips unbidden.

The man above him hopped off and yanked up Merlin by his shoulders, one meaty hand around his neck.

"You can have my money, there's not much anyway," Merlin gasped out, hands scrabbling at the one closed on his windpipe. The man, who Merlin could now see had a swirling tattoo where his hair would be, leered down at him.

"'S'not money I want." Merlin flinched at the implications in his gravelly voice.

"Hey!" came a voice from behind them. The man whipped around, loosening his grip by only a fraction, not enough for Merlin to pull free. He tried to edge around a bit to see who was yelling, but suddenly he was being released and tugged to his feet by a noticeably softer hand, the owner of which was now saying "You alright Eric?" and instantly Merlin recognized his rescuer.

Blondie stood tall and stared down at Merlin's attacker, and despite the height difference between the two, Blondie somehow appeared to be ten times more intimidating, with the fire in his eyes and rage twisting his mouth into a scowl that Merlin probably shouldn't have found as attractive as he did.

"Scram."

And scram he did. Merlin watched with a hint of satisfaction as the man fell over his feet trying to escape Blondie. The moment he was out of sight, Blondie turned to Merlin, who was massaging his throat.

"Well? Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm-" Merlin cleared his throat. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you. I don't want to picture what he would have done." Blondie frowned and shook his head slightly.

"I guess we're sort of even now, although you couldn't have taken that guy like I could've the other."

"I'll say it again, you looked like you needed some help, so I provided. How did you find me anyway? Have you been following me just so you can help if I get in trouble and repay your silly debt?" Merlin asked, only half joking.

Blondie stared at him with an expression of such incredulity that a very undignified snort found it's way to the world, but Merlin immediately recomposed himself.

"Actually, I was about to hail a cab to get home. I work there," Blondie said, pointing at the Pendragon Inc. building and puffing up his chest in pride. "My father runs it."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be impressive?"

Blondie deflated a bit, but tried to play it off. "No, it's just a fact. Where do you work, the underground?"

Merlin was unamused.

Neither of them spoke for a few moments while Merlin sent him a beam of piercing disapproval and Blondie stewed in shame for his low blow. Merlin hastily changed the subject.

"So I never caught your name..." he said casually.

"That'll be because I never dropped it," Blondie responded, humor dancing in his eyes.

They were nice eyes, Merlin noticed idly. Blue, bright. He shook his head aggressively as if to knock the thoughts out. What were they talking about again?

"Pendragon."

Blondie blinked. "Yes, how did you know?"

Merlin sent him a deadpan stare. "You said your father runs Pendragon Inc. not thirty seconds ago."

The two held each others' gazes, Merlin's defiant and Blondie's thoughtful. Merlin couldn't help but wonder what was going on in that golden head of his. After a few seconds, Blondie broke the stare.

"I like you, Eric," he said.

"Actually, it's Mer-"

"You're very brave. Would you care to work for me at Pendragon Inc.? I assure you, the pay is quite fetching."

Merlin's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "I..."

"You don't have to accept, of course," Blondie added hurriedly. "I just thought it would be a good opportunity for you, and another thank you of a sort, for pulling that guy away from me at the club. I'll give you some time to think about it, and here-" Blondie extracted a small napkin and a pen from his coat and scribbled something on it, before handing it to Merlin, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. Merlin accepted it slowly and glanced at it – it read "Arthur Pendragon" followed by a number – then carefully folded it and shoved it in his pocket.

"I'll think about it," Merlin promised, already knowing his decision. He nodded to Arthur as he passed, offering a small smile. "And thanks again... Arthur."


End file.
